Trust My Hands
by Leon Sage
Summary: Tom has always admired mutants and their abilities, but they're a problem, especially to his family. So when they throw him out of his home because he turns out to be one, he learns that all those wonderful abilities he's heard, read and talked about aren't as amazing as he's thought it out to be. And now he has to learn how to control his own.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Introduction to Human Communication. **

Tom was in his bedroom the first time it happened. It happened so suddenly and the release it gave him was almost blinding, but after it happened, he sat down on the ground, looking at his messy hands and tears began to fall from his beautiful blue eyes. He knew it was wrong, he knew it was inhuman and he knew what his parents had thought about it, but he just couldn't help himself.

Soon he would have to do it just to numb the pain of the things happening around him. His parents were getting a divorce soon and his brother had recently tried to commit suicide from the stress of this problem. Tom was being picked on in school again and every day felt longer than the next; but this, this secret of his made him feel like he could do anything, rule his own imaginary kingdom and god, it felt good doing it. So he would escape when he could, steal away to the school toilet, the back of the dumpsters behind the school grounds, quietly in his bedroom or, every so often, in the church confession box.

Tom would do it slowly, watching as it happened and savoring each moment of it, this was his terrible secret, the one he knew he would be ostracized for if anyone found out: he had super strength.

He had seen them on the news at night, surrounded by his family and had discussed the issue at school, the issue of the mutants. To him, he had seen them as wonderful people, gifted with extraordinary gifts, but the way his parents had talked about them, he knew that they'd never accept anything to do with them. "But why?" he'd asked them once when he was seven and they shook their heads in disgust and his mother had leaned over and patted his arm. "Because, Tommy, they're bad people, and bad people need to be put down." That was the last time he'd talked about mutants to his parents, and when the head cheerleader of his school had caused a blackout in his town because her boyfriend broke up with her, Tom had signed the petition that she and her family move out of town. It was not one of his proudest moments, but he did it because he wanted to seem normal and part of the group, unlike the cheerleader, who he had found out from one of her friends that knew about her, had tried hard to live as normally as she could after she found out about her electrifying abilities.

And now Tom was in that position, keeping a secret from the world and his family, thank god he didn't have friends. But his mother found out anyway, accidentally and unsurprisingly. Tom was sitting in the garden under the oak tree where he used to play when he was a boy and he was looking down at the ground. His parents had been arguing again and his brother had hit his father in anger, not unusual for his brother who had a fiery temper. So Tom had run, as per scenario, to hide from the violence. He hated it and he loathed being in the middle of his family and a part of him thought that it really was a sick joke that he'd been given such an aggressive gift.

His mother was walking towards the tree when she saw him pull out one of the roots of the tree like it was a piece of paper and break it in half. She'd gasped and Tom heard her. He turned and saw the horror on her face and he felt his heart sink to the center of the Earth. "Mother," he'd said, but before he could continue, she'd stumbled backwards and run back into the house, screaming at the top of her voice. It was then that Tom's family had finally come together, his mother putting aside her drinking, his father giving up gambling and his brother being their mediator, all to get Tom out of their house.

Tom hadn't dared go back into the house then, so he had run from it. He went through town and had spent the night at one of the inns that were there, thanking God that he had had the good sense to always have a few pounds with him. But when he returned to the house the next day, he found two suitcases at the front door and a post-it stuck one handle's saying, "Goodbye Tom." That was all he got from his family, that and seeing all his possessions thrown into the garbage near his house. He had rummaged through his things with tears blinding him and had found it. His bound book of sketches, splattered with some liquid or other and his copy of The Divine Comedy, his favorite book.

Tom had grown up being taught to be a gentleman and how to carry on no matter what came his way, so, with his heart pumping fast and fear in his eyes, he held his head high and walked out of his small town, nodding and smiling politely at those who saw him. Many of them looked confused at the suitcases, but as he walked through the town, he felt the news spreading like wildfire and by the time he'd reached the town border, people were talking openly about him and what he'd done. He willed himself to not show any trace of emotion, to not give anyone the satisfaction of getting to him, but when he got to the train station outside of town, he allowed himself all but one tear to slide down his cheek.

Tom sat down on one of the train station benches and he opened the suitcases and looked at the contents of it. He never owned many clothes, so he was not surprised that they could all fit in two suitcases, but he found them perfectly folded and even an extra pair of shoes and his laptop and charger. He wondered who had done all this for him, then he remembered that as he had looked back at the house, he'd seen old Josephine, his nanny and house-cleaner looking sadly at him, a handkerchief in his hand. She'd blown him a kiss and he'd nodded at her and turned back to the road.

"Oh, Josie," he said and was almost reduced to tears again, but he cleared his throat and looked through the contents of the suitcase. There were pressing matters than succumbing to so many emotions in one day. He found a brown paper envelope at the bottom of one of the suitcases and in it, was about two thousand pounds. In it was also a note saying, "Remember that I love you, my dear Tommy," and was signed with a simple 'J'. Tom's heart swelled with happiness and he closed the suitcases quickly, knowing what he had to do.

He'd read about it in the papers and he'd seen in the news, so he knew what he had to do, but he didn't know where it was exactly. "One to London, please," he told the station lady and he took a train to the heart of London. As he got off the train, he realized that he was dressed exactly like a country boy, with his floppy jacket and his cream pants and he was sure that he looked a mess, so he went into one of the toilets there and was taken aback by what he saw in the mirror.

Sleepless eyes, ringed red and messy blonde hair sticking up at odds ends, he looked like he'd gone through a zombie attack, so he splashed some water on his face and tried to put his hair in a presentable manner when he felt something sharp on the small of his back. "Ey, whatchu go' in tha' case?" a voice said and Tom closed his eyes, fear taking him. "Listen, I don't want any trouble," he said and the pressure increased on his back. "An' I wanna know whatchu go' in the case," the voice said. "It's just some clothes and a pair of shoes," Tom said slowly and he closed his eyes, willing the pressure to lift off his back and after a few seconds, the pressure did lift off, but when he opened his eyes, his shoulder's drooped slightly as he found that the suitcases weren't by his sides anymore. He had put a thousand pounds and his passport in his pants pockets before he had left the train and he thanked his lucky stars that there seemed to be a God watching out for him.

Tom steeled himself and walked out of the train station to greater London and took in the sights. He'd never been to the city before alone and had always managed to get himself lost when he did come, so he did the most sensible thing and hailed a cab. "Where to?" the driver asked him and when he didn't answer, the driver looked round to see the young man with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. "Are you alright?" the man asked and after a moment, Tom opened his eyes and smiled weakly at him. "Yes, I'm sorry. Just been a tough day. I would like to go to Heathrow please," Tom said and the driver looked at him for a moment and smiled before he turned around and pulled into the road.

"You know lad, you don't have to be afraid of your gifts," the driver suddenly said and Tom looked at him, suddenly wary. "I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about," he said and the driver looked at him in the mirror and put his hand up. As he did, his hand turned a smoky grey and disappeared like fog. He gasped and sat back in the seat and the driver smiled warmly and his hand returned to normal. "You're not alone," he said and Tom swallowed hard, not being able to speak. "H-How?" he asked and the driver looked at him through the rearview mirror. "Because I was in your position a long time ago, lad, and I can spot one a mile away, most of us can," he said and when Tom looked confused, he added, "The cab drivers."

"The… cab drivers?" Tom asked and the driver nodded. "Most of the cab drivers around are mutants or people that help find mutants, well, in London at least. We help them get to a safe place if need be or put them up for the night," the driver explained and added, "I'm Robert, by the way." "R-Robert," Tom said slowly, still unsure, "I'm Tom." "Pleasure to meet you, Tom. Now, I know that this is a lot to handle, but you're going to Heathrow, are you sure you're not running?" Robert asked and Tom went silent. Honestly, he didn't know, he just knew that he had to get to that place. "Yes," he said finally, "I'm sure." Robert looked at him for a long while and finally nodded at him.

They spent the next hour talking about what it was like living with abilities, Tom asking tentative question and listening intently to Robert's responses. When they finally reached the airport, Tom looked out the window and licked his lips slowly, trying to pluck up the courage to get out of the car and step back into the world. Robert looked around and started the engine again and pulled out of the cab waiting line and drove. "Where are you going?" Tom asked, suddenly fearful, but Robert didn't answer him. Tom thought of using his ability, but he also had grown to trust the man in the short time that they had known each other, so he waited.

Robert pulled into the airport car park and parked the little black cab and got out. He opened the door for Tom and smiled down at the man. "Come on, Tom," he said and Tom slowly put a shaking hand on the doorframe and got out of the car. Robert closed the door and looked at him, "You could stay here, you know. You could become a cab driver and find others and guide them." But Tom shook his head and looked at the entrance to the airport. "I have to. I don't know why, but I know I have to."

Robert looked at him for a moment and the older man put a fatherly arm around Tom and gently nudged him to start walking. They walked through the airport and Robert helped Tom buy a ticket when Tom couldn't quite get the words out and they sat down at a McDonalds as they waited for the plane to board. "Robert," Tom asked and Robert looked up from his cheeseburger, "Why are you doing this for me?" Robert put down his burger and swallowed what was in his mouth.

"Tom, we have to pave our own paths in our lives," he said and took out his wallet and showed Tom a picture of his family, "I chose to live as normally as possible and I even found a wife who understood me and had my beautiful girls. That was the life I chose and I'm content with that. You have to find your own path and follow it, exactly where your heart takes you is where you're supposed to go." Tom looked at Robert for a long while and for some reason, he broke down. He began sobbing right there in the middle of Heathrow airport in a McDonalds. Robert was startled for a moment but put a hand on Tom's shoulder and Tom put his hand over Robert's as he cried. Robert sat silently as Tom calmed down and when he had wiped his cheeks with one of the serviettes, Robert asked, "Are you alright?" and Tom nodded. "Yes, sorry, long day." Robert chuckled, "You've mentioned."

They heard Tom's plane being called and after he'd checked in, he turned around and looked at Robert. "Robert, thank you," he said and Robert nodded, "It was a pleasure, Thomas." He held out his hand, but Tom wrapped his arms around Robert and Robert hugged him back. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Tom," Robert said quietly and Tom said back, equally as quietly, "I hope so too." When they parted, Robert looked at him and handed him a card. "If you're ever back in England, drop in." Tom nodded and began walking towards the plane. He'd miss Robert, that much he knew.

The flight to America was a bumpy one, but as they neared land, the skies became eerily still and clear, almost too perfect of a day and Robert looked out at rising sun and sighed to himself. America was a big place; he just hoped he knew where he was going. He landed at JFK airport and as he got out of the customs, he suddenly thought about Robert and whether or not the cabs here were the same as they were in London. He got out of the airport and was going to get into a cab when he heard a voice say, _"No, Tom, not that one." _He looked around, confused and he heard the voice again, _"Go down the road, find the woman with white hair." _

Tom thought he was going mad, but the voice in his head telling him to find a woman with white hair confirmed that he was not, indeed, going mad. So Tom, with all his intelligence and ability to think, went against his better judgment and did what the voice told him to do. He walked down the side of the airport and found an African American woman with a shock of white hair sitting on a bench, drinking a soda. "Um, hello," he said and the woman looked up at him and smiled. "Hi Tom," she said and stood up, "I'm Ororo Monroe. Follow me."

Tom looked at her uncertainly and she handed him a soda as she began walking. "You're lucky, you know," she said and Tom looked at her from examining the soda can. "Excuse me?" he said and she looked at him. "Most of us don't run away from home with a plan and so much money." He stopped and she looked back at him. "Have you been following me?" he asked and she shook her head and continued walking.

He looked down at the can and then he heard the voice in his head again. _"Tom, none of us will hurt you. We just want to help you understand your gifts."_ "Yes, and the people of Salem did so enjoy their barbecues," he said under his breath and jogged to catch up with Ororo. "Ms. Monroe," he said, "Where exactly are you taking me to?" She turned to him and smiled and veered to the right, stopping in front of a silver SUV and she opened the door. Inside was sitting a man robbed of all his hair on his head and he heard the voice again.

"_Hello Tom. My name is Professor Charles Xavier."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Public Relations Methods**

**Author's Note: I would like to thank Chester Feathersworth for being the best Beta to me and for finally making me able to sound as coherent as I want my stories to sound.**

_Wow, _Tom thought to himself as the black car passed through the gates of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. It was a huge mansion surrounded by several acres of land, and even though Tom had come from a country of land and grand mansions, he'd never seen anything quite like this. "This is yours?" he asked the Professor who was sitting across from him with a vague smile on his face.

"Yes Tom," he said, looking outside. "And this is can be your home too, if you want it to be." Tom tore his eyes away from the house and looked at the Professor for a moment. How open and trusting this man is… how absolutely and irrevocably trusting of him. The Professor's smile became more pronounced and Tom looked down, remembering that the man could read his thoughts. "Don't be afraid," the Professor said, "The people here have their own stories and struggles, some that you may be able to relate to."

The car stopped at the main entrance of the house, and Ororo got out of the car to help the Professor down into a wheelchair. Tom thought was elegant and beautiful. "Thank you, Tom, I designed it myself," the Professor said as he activated the electronic control and started wheeling to the foyer. Tom looked at him and Ororo came up to him and smiled. "You'll get used to it," she said and he smiled at her. "I hardly think I will."

They walked through the mansion halls and Tom took everything in, glancing curiously into halls, classes and the many living rooms as they passed by. He smiled at the students whose eyes he caught. Some smiled back while some regarded him with cautious looks.

"Most of the kids here have been through a lot," Ororo said and Tom looked at her. "How do you mean?" he asked. Ororo stopped at one of the gaming halls and pointed out a boy in a steel grey T-shirt that was built like a Roman warrior. "For example, Piotr Rasputin - his powers manifested when he was trying to save his sister from a tractor that would have crushed her. And the Professor saved him from his community that would have crushed him." Tom looked at Piotr and quickly glanced away when he caught them staring. Ororo waved at him and then continued walking on with Tom falling into step behind her.

When they reached the Professor's office, they found him reading a document that had apparently been handed to him by a woman with a shock of rust red hair. She had a doctor's coat on and when she looked at Tom, he instantly had a feeling that she was a powerful mutant.

"Tom, I would like you to meet Ms. Jean Grey," the Professor said and the redhead smiled at him. "Ms. Grey is our resident doctor and a telekinetic." Tom nodded and shook hands with her. "A pleasure." Jean chuckled. "Wow, Professor, you finally found one that was like you when you were young," she said, and the Professor laughed and nodded. "Quite so. Tom, please go with Ms. Grey so that she can get a full diagnostic on your health and your powers. After that we can have a meal together and you can meet some of the other students."

Tom nodded, thanked the Professor, and followed Jean out the door. When they got to her lab which was underground, he was asked to sit on one of the operation beds and wait for a minute. He seized that time to look around, and realized that he was afraid; he was absolutely afraid of this school, this place, and what would happen to him. He had no plans, no currency of this country, heck he didn't even have a change of clothes. But before he could go out of his mind, Jean returned with a tray laden with a needle and some cotton swabs. She looked at him, concern crossing her face and Tom tried to smile at her. "S-Sorry," he said, finally dropping the act. Jean patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, you're one of the calmer runaways." Tom looked up at her, "I'm not a runaway, Ms. Grey. My family disowned me."

Jean stopped getting the swabs ready and turned to him. "I'm sorry." Tom just nodded at her. "I'm going to have to get a blood sample and some DNA from you, okay?" she said, and Tom nodded again, rolling up his sleeve. He winced as the needle went into his skin, and was extremely uncomfortable when Jean put a cotton swab in his mouth to take his DNA, but it was quickly done. The telekinetic put the syringe and cotton away to be analyzed. "Now-," she said as she took off her doctor's coat, "-is the fun part."

She grabbed a pen and clipboard that was on one of the tables and led him to another room that had a high ceiling and was entirely black. She pressed a few buttons that was on a wall console and a rock appeared in the middle of the room. "Show me what you can do," she said. Tom looked uncertainly at the rock then back at her. "Don't hold back," she said with a smile, her pen poised over her clipboard. Tom walked to the rock, placed his hand on it, then punched it as hard as he could.

The rock shattered into a million pieces and when Tom pulled back, he found that his knuckles were only a slightly red when it should have been broken. "Hmm," he heard and turned to look at Jean. "Did I do alright?" he asked and she looked up from the clipboard with a smile. "Yes, you did fine. Now, is your physical strength the only power you have, or are there more?"

Tom thought about it, then jumped up then landed on his feet again. He looked at Jean whose eyebrow had made its way up her forehead and he smiled sheepishly. "Had to try," he said with a shrug. A smile cracked on her face. "You've got a lot of power," she said, "We'll teach you how to control it, and help you focus the energy. Is that okay with you?" Tom nodded and licked his lips, realizing how he was very suddenly very hungry.

After Jean was done with him, she led him up to the main living area and to the kitchen. She sat him down and made him three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches which he polished off with much gusto. "How did you know?" he asked as he was licking his fingers clean and Jean, who was leaning against the counter with a cup of orange juice, shrugged at him. "I'm a telepath?"

Tom stopped and cocked his head. "I thought you were a telekinetic?" She nodded. "People who are telekinetic usually have some degree of telepathy or clairvoyance." Tom nodded in understanding just as a student walked into the kitchen.

"Hey man," the student said, "New here?" Tom nodded and Jean gave the student a sly smile. "Tom, this is Bobby Drake. He's a year younger than you." Bobby shook Tom's hand good naturedly, then grabbed a soda from the cupboard above Jean's head and blew on the neck, freezing it instantly. Tom raised his eyebrows in surprise and Bobby smirked at him and glanced at Jean. "I like him, he's cool," he said and gave Tom a two finger salute and left the room, "See you around, Curly." Tom felt that he may have made a friend, but he wasn't sure yet. Jean leaned up from the counter and took Tom's plate to wash it, but Tom declined and did it himself. "Gentlemanly," Jean said and Tom smiled at her as he wiped his hands dry. "Manners matter," he said simply and Jean laughed out loud. "Tom, you're going to be interesting to have around here." Tom gave her a confused look, but she turned around and asked him to follow her.

She led him upstairs to one of the dormitories and showed him into one of the rooms there. "You'll be sharing your room with one of the older students here," she said and looked at him. "Don't worry, he's harmless." Tom looked at her with surprise. "It's a boy living here?" Jean nodded with a smile. "You'll understand why." She told Tom that dinner was at seven thirty and lights out at eleven then left him to his own devices. Tom sat down on the bed and looked around the room, taking it all in.

From the ceiling hung dreamcatchers of all sizes and colors. Crystals were scattered on the windowsills, the sides of the bathroom, and at the entrance. On a dresser in front of a particularly used bed, there were all manner of symbols and charms. Tom wondered what kind of boy would have such weird odds and ends, and found himself wondering if the boy was a telekinetic like Jean was. He lay down on the bed, reminding himself to get some new clothes to wear and suddenly his body felt tired and unbelievably heavy. Soon after, he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke up, he stirred slowly as he didn't want to leave the comfort of the warm bed. Upon opening his eyes, he jumped back a little because sitting on the bed next to him was an absolutely huge boy. He had a smile on his face which grew bigger when Tom scrambled to get up. "Hey, calm down," the boy said and Tom tried to calm his breathing down, but when he failed to do so, the boy stretched his hand out and Tom instantly calmed down. "W-Who…" Tom began as the boy got off his bed. "Who am I?" the boy asked as he opened a drawer and rummaged through it, "I'm… I'm- where the heck, aha! –I'm Chris," he said and extracted a rope bracelet with two pinkish stones accompanied by three purple ones on it.

"I-I'm Tom," Tom said and his breath caught as Chris climbed onto his bed and took Tom's hand in his, slipping the bracelet on at the same time. Then Tom almost fainted when Chris leaned down and kissed him on both cheeks. "The bracelet is for strength and courage and the kisses are for welcomes and trust," Chris said with a smile at the flushing Tom before jumping off the bed. Some part of Tom was awed that such a huge man could move so gracefully and almost effortlessly. Chris sat down on his own bed, cross-legged and smiling while Tom managed to get himself into a sitting position. He looked at Chris and took him all in: Veined hands and wrists covered in beads, rope bracelets and charms; thick arms and broad chest; dirty blonde hair and blue eyes; loose jeans, and most curiously, his bare feet, as Tom then realized that it was freezing in there.

Chris chuckled. "So, the Professor told me that you have a little predicament of having no clothes to wear." Tom's face fell a little and Chris frowned at him. "Hey, don't feel bad, huh?" Tom looked up at his kind smile as he continued. "When I got here, I was literally wearing part of a garbage bag and rope. So I get it. Tomorrow, we'll go get some clothes for you on the house, and I'll even get you something to fatten you up a little because boy, are you thin."

Tom smiled at that and swallowed. "I have a high metabolism. And thank you, but you don't have to use the school funds, I have my own money, I just need a money changer." Chris' smile widened and he nodded as he lounged back on his elbows and flipped the hair off his face, "Alrighty then, Tommy. So, tell me about yourself, huh?"

Tom looked at Chris for a moment, stricken by the easy beauty of the boy and caught himself just as Chris raised a cheeky eyebrow at him. "Tom, one of my abilities is empathy. Which means I can feel what you're feeling, so you wanna say what's going on in that head of yours?" Tom's heart almost stopped when he heard that and Chris laughed and shook his head. Tom apologized and proceeded to tell Chris about his family and how he was thrown out. Chris frowned and nodded; his expression between pity and understanding. Finally, when Tom has finished, Chris leaned up and jumped onto Tom, the both of them falling backwards. Chris held onto Tom in a tight hug. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said softly and Tom couldn't help but feel comforted by Chris' embrace.

When Chris released Tom, he smiled and pushed his hair off his face and got off the bed. "So, since you have nothing to wear, I'm going to loan you some of my stuff, okay?" Tom bit his lip. "Chris, you don't have to-" "I'm not going to let you sleep in stuff you've been wearing since you were in England," Chris said with finality and got up, padding his way to the huge cupboard that he kept his clothes in and took out a sweater, jeans, and even a pair of new underwear that were just a few centimeters bigger than what Tom usually wore. After a good hot shower and changing into Chris' clothes, Tom felt refreshed and rested, but when he looked in Chris' mirror, he gasped. Never in his life had Tom dressed so casually. He took a few moments to remind himself that he was an Englishman and that these clothes were just a temporary fitting, yet he was amused at how comfortable the sweatshirt felt against his skin.

Chris was sitting on the ledge of his window, absentmindedly playing with what looked like a cat's eye stone. He was obviously thinking about something, so Tom cleared his throat quietly and Chris came back to reality, glancing at Tom. "Well, doesn't that feel better?" he asked and Tom nodded, "Very much so." Chris chuckled and jumped off the windowsill. "C'mon, dinner time," he said and walked out of the room barefoot, and as Tom followed him, he realized that Chris moved with inhuman precision and grace, like a dancer times ten. Chris noticed this and smiled. "Don't be fooled by the way I move, Tom," he said. "It's a habit." Tom cocked his head in confusion while Chris looked ahead and put his hands his pockets. "I grew up as a hooker."

Tom stopped. Chris turned around to see shock etched on Tom's face. He smiled at Tom and turned back around, continuing to walk. "I-I'm sorry," Tom said when he got over the shock and caught up with Chris. "I didn't mean to react that way." Chris put an arm around Tom and pulled him close. "It happened a long time ago, Tommy. Don't sweat it." They entered the dining hall and students were milling around, talking and laughing with their food in hand; some were sitting down, some floating in midair and some just standing around. In the middle of the room was a table piled to breaking point with all sorts of food. Tom's stomach groaned with hunger. Chris let go of Tom's shoulder and they got what they wanted to eat from the table. Tom thought they would end up in one of the circles, but Chris nodded at the door. "Follow me."

Tom followed Chris out to the sprawling garden and they settled down in one of the alcoves that offered both privacy and quiet from the booming noise from the house. Tom looked around at the lights that dotted the surrounding area and smiled at Chris. "I'm supposed to be making friends in there," he said and Chris smirked. "All in good time, Tommy."

Both of them ate their meal in relative silence. After they were done, they leaned back in the seat with full stomachs, Tom having a content smile on his face. "That was beautiful," he said and Chris laughed. Just before he replied, someone laughed too. They looked around to see some of the students walking down the stairs that were behind them. "Hey guys," Chris said and Bobby -who Tom had met earlier - waved at them.

"Ready to make new friends?" Chris asked, and suddenly Tom was a little nervous about the prospect. But they all turned out to be wonderfully friendly people. The tall boy named Piotr who told Tom to just call him Peter, turned out to be one of the most caring people Tom had ever met; Kitty Pryde, a girl who could walk through walls had a quick wit that Tom fell in love with; and Jean-Paul Beaubier, a boy with slightly pointed ears and white streaks in his hair was a master of acrobats and loved sitting in complicated positions that made Tom wonder just how flexible he really was. There was another girl named Jubilation Lee who told Tom to call her Jubilee. She could literally light up the night sky with her ability to produce what looked like fireworks.

Together this group of people convinced Tom that he'd made a few friends and they seemed to accept him without looking as if they judged him for anything that he was or anything he said. They ended up talking until two in the morning, and when Chris and he finally went back to their room, Chris flopped down on his bed and sighed happily, the softness of his pillows making him want to melt. But then he felt something from Tom and looked at the boy who had lain down and covered himself with his blanket. "What's up?" Chris asked. Tom looked down, not saying anything, but Chris knew what was wrong.

"First night in a strange place, away from home, no knowing where you're going and what you're going to do with your life," he said, not as a question, but as a statement. Tom closed his eyes tight, not wanting to cry in front of Chris, but he felt Chris' body against him, hugging him from behind and Tom suddenly couldn't hold the tears back. He cried into his pillow with Chris holding onto him and finally, when he had calmed down, Chris slowed down his heartbeat and helped him clear his mind, slowly put Tom into a deep sleep. He got off the bed, patted Tom's shoulder, and got into his own bed, smiling at the tired silhouette that was his new roommate.

"Please don't dream tonight," Chris said to himself as he began to drift off. "Please, don't dream."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Physical Education.**

**Many, many thanks to Chester Feathersworth for being the best Beta ever! Thank you for taking the time to get through this.**

"Breathe," the voice said. "Breathe. And try again." Tom exhaled slowly and tried again. He gently touched the metal frame of the giant cylinder he was supposed to move and pushed ever… so… slightly. _Crash. _He let out an exasperated groan and turned around, looking at Jean who was smiling sympathetically at him. "Don't worry, you'll get it," she encouraged. "You just have to remember to breathe."

"Yes, breathing, an integral part of staying alive, how could I forget," Tom said incredulously and immediately closed his eyes, calming himself down. "I'm sorry," he said softly. Jean shook her head. "Don't worry, I was there too." Tom highly doubted that this powerful creature in front of him could ever be out of control, but the understanding was welcomed. They walked out of the training room, and as they did, Jean stopped and looked upwards. "Your friends are wondering where you are." Tom looked up at the ceiling dumbly. "Have you made many?" she added, continuing to walk ahead.

Tom shrugged non-committedly. "I suppose it is difficult being the new kid in the middle of term," he said and she smiled, giving him a nod. "Well, if it's any consolation, I was friends with most of the teachers when I was studying here, and you've already been here for three months, Tom," Jean said. "My only friends were Ororo and Scott." "Scott… Your fiancé?" Tom asked and she nodded. "It must be a meeting of the stars, you and him," Tom teased with a dreamy tone. Jean laughed, giving his arm a squeeze. "You're sweet."

They reached the end of the hallway and took the elevator up to the living area. "Tom," Jean said, stopping him from getting out. He looked at her suddenly serious expression and thought she was going to reprimand him for something, but she quickly closed her eyes and took him by his arms. "Tom, your roommate, Chris? If one day he asks you to do something, do it alright? Don't ask any questions - just do it. Can you do that for me?" she asked and Tom cocked his head to the side, a question rising in his head but Jean's eyes seemed to flare up with power, so he nodded and she sighed.

"Thank you," she said, resuming her mild demeanor. "Now go on, your friends are waiting for you." Tom nodded and left. Jean's words had struck him as both odd and severely unsettling, but he also decided that he would trust her and keep what had happened between them. He walked into one of the rooms and saw Chris shooting pool with Bobby. Not wanting to distract them, he quietly went over to where Jean-Paul and Jubilee were sitting and they greeted him with friendly hugs and a soda. He was going to have to get used to hugging people all the time because, as he realized, he wasn't in England anymore.

"Bobby's got game today," Jubilee said admiringly as he sunk another ball into one of the side pockets. "As per usual," Jean-Paul mused and Tom smiled at him. Jubilee had told Tom the week before that Jean-Paul had a major and unrequited crush on Bobby and now that Tom was looking at the way Jean-Paul looked at Bobby, he felt a twinge of sadness for the pointy eared, white-haired boy.

"So, Jean-Paul," Tom said in an attempt to distract him. "How is Calculus going?" Jean-Paul tore his eyes away from the pool table and gave Tom the requisite groan-roll-of-eyes-loll-head-back gesture that Tom and Jubilee couldn't help but snigger at. "You know how I am at numbers," he groaned. "As far as I'm concerned, the only numbers I need are some lucky guy's digits." Jubilee laughed out loud, catching the attention of the two pool players. Chris looked over at the trio and his eyes lit up when he and Tom's eyes met. Bobby smirked and gave Tom a two finger salute which Tom nodded to.

"Be over in a bit," Chris called over. "Just gotta melt this ice cube." Tom laughed at that, finding Chris' competitive side rather charming. Together with Jean-Paul and Jubilee, they watched Bobby slaughter Chris. Chris looked a little defeated after the game, so Tom gave him a good natured nod and told him he could have the rest of his soda. "My hero," Chris said before kissing Tom on the cheek. Tom froze and blushed a little, looking down. "So," Jubilee said, giving Tom a sly smile. "What's up with you two?"

Tom looked at her with an expression of mounting horror, but Chris coolly slipped his hand around Tom's shoulder and smiled. "We're totally going at it," Chris said. "Night and day." Tom looked pointedly at him and stood up, removing Chris' arm from his shoulder. He excused himself and walked out of the room, heading outside. Chris put down the empty soda bottle and stood up. "I think I'd better go after him," he said, sensing something is wrong. Jubilee raised an eyebrow at Chris' reaction. "No, I'll go." Chris looked at her as if waiting for an explanation, but she just shook her head. "Just… hang out here for a while, okay?" Chris nodded.

Tom was sitting under one of the trees much like the one that he used to sit under back home. He was looking down at a small stone that he was turning over in his hands, trying to keep the bile down from his throat. Jubilee found him there after a few minutes of searching the grounds and approached him slowly, not wanting to startle him. "Tom?" she said softly, and when he didn't answer, she went around the tree and sat down in front of him. She reached out her hand and touched Tom's, but when their skin made contact, he recoiled a little. "I don't want to hurt you." His voice quivered a little, and from that she realized that he was crying.

"Oh, Tommy, what's wrong?" she asked, getting up to sit next to him. Tom rested his head on her shoulder, wrapped his arms around his knees so he wouldn't accidentally crush her, and wept for reasons unknown even to him. Jubilee stroked his hair, quietly whispering that everything will be okay when Tom suddenly snapped. "How can you say everything will be okay when even I don't know why I'm like this?!" Tom angrily wiped the tears from his face. "I can't control my powers, I'm afraid to touch anything and anyone because I'm afraid I'll break them, I'm afraid to be close to people, and on top of all this, Chris tells all of you that we're dating."

Jubilee's concerned look changed when she heard that, her eyes growing wide. "Tom, is this about Chris?" she asked. Tom put his hands in the air in frustration. "God only knows," he said. Jubilee suddenly laughed, much to Tom's displeasure. "I'm glad my pain gives you pleasure," he scoffed and Jubilee shook her head. "Didn't mean anything by it, Tommy, but have you ever wondered why you feel this way?" Tom looked at her dubiously. "If I'm right about what you're insinuating, then you, my dear friend, are mad," he said, his full British accent coming out strong, but Jubilee couldn't help herself and went on. "Tom, you like Chris, just admit it."

Tom shook his head, turning pink. "I do not," he said defiantly and tried to stand up, but Jubilee pulled him back and stared him down. "Okay, then look me in the eye and tell me that you don't like him." Tom tried, but found that he couldn't. "Jubilee, please-," he began, but she stopped him. "No, I'm not going to tell him, that's your business with him. But Tom, for the love of God, quit being scared okay? I know you're still having trouble with your strength and control, but try to stop being afraid in your head. We're all here to help each other grow, and we'll be here even if accidents happen."

Tom looked down, but Jubilee took his chin with two fingers and made him look up at her. "Don't be ashamed of your gifts, and don't you dare play anything down. If you need help, just ask. If you're struggling, reach out and we'll help you. We all may have different powers and stories, but we're all linked together at a genetic level and I'll be damned before I find a reason to not help any one of my friends. And Chris is the same, okay? Why do you think he's so close to you; so open and kind?" And that's when it hit Tom. "He knows…" he whispered. "His empathy…" Jubilee nodded, smiling. "He's trying to tell you that he's okay with it, that he's not shy or afraid to show you that he cares about you too."

Tom swallowed and nodded; all this information was suddenly too much to handle. He slumped against the tree. "If he knows, then why has he not said anything?" Jubilee shrugged. "Chris is someone that no one has been able to understand. Well, except the professor, that is. But he's like the CIA with people's memories," she said, absentmindedly twirling her fingers, a small firework expanding between them.

Tom sighed as he looked up at the leaves in the trees, green and beautiful. "He's been through a lot, hasn't he? But he's remained such a gentle and understanding person." Jubilee nodded and smiled at him. "Tom, you know, when I first got my powers, I blasted a hole in an alley trying to get away from mall cops, of all things." Jubilee said offhandedly and Tom glanced at her. For some reason, it didn't surprise him one bit. "You have beautiful gifts, Jubilee." Jubilee lifted her hand, a firework dancing in her palm. "Beautiful…" she whispered, and then shot the firework to one of the trees nearby, causing the whole tree to explode and fall over. "… and dangerous."

Tom looked at the smoldering ashes of the tree and stood up. "I think I'll go back inside," he said while Jubilee got up, brushing away dried leaves from her shorts. When they got back to the house, they were stopped by Kitty who vaguely asked about a sound she had heard, and Jubilee proudly told her that an evil tree won't be bothering them anymore. Kitty rolled her eyes at that and pranced off through an adjacent wall, probably looking for Peter. They reached the room they formerly left and found only Jean-Paul and Bobby there.

"Where's Chris?" Tom asked as they approached. Jean-Paul and Bobby exchanged worried glances. "He uh," Bobby started, clearly looking for a good excuse. "He…" But Tom didn't hear another word of what Bobby was saying because his head was suddenly filled with the Professor's voice. "Tom, Chris won't be sleeping in his room tonight. He has gone out for some time alone. Have a good night." "Tom?" Jean-Paul's voice snapped Tom back to reality. "Sorry, I was miles away." He smiled at them, "Don't worry, Chris will be fine."

_Chris will be fine_, Tom repeated to himself in his head, but he wasn't going to be. Was it him? Was it him walking away that caused Chris to walk out on him? _Was it me? _That thought plagued his mind for the rest of the day and most of the night. When he got to his room, he sat down on Chris' bed and looked at Chris' side table which was littered with small charms, rocks and books. Tom picked up one of the stones - a beautiful sea green one - and examined it.

As he looked at it, he remembered his mother's jewelry box, full of shiny trinkets and stones. He remembered looking through them while his mother got ready for one of her parties. He would always pick the perfect set of earrings for her, and she would kiss him on the forehead as she took them from him, a loving look in her eyes. Then he remembered her face the last time he saw her, twisted in disgust and fear. She had been wearing earrings that were almost the same color as the stone in his hand now.

Tom lay down and turned the stone over, letting the light play through it. It was then that he felt the uncontrollable homesickness wreck through his body. Being in another country, another time zone, another culture was exciting, but he realized that for all the friends he has made, he still felt unbearably lonely. Tom fell into an uneasy sleep, images of his parents with disapproving faces, endless tunnels of darkness, and broken bodies.

He was woken up by someone calling his name. Bleary eyed and disoriented, Tom got up and looked around, trying to see where the noise was coming from. _Tommy, _the voice said and he jerked, startled. He definitely wasn't hearing things now. He got out of bed and shivered, the cold hitting him like a brick. He quickly threw on a cardigan and went out the room. It was early in the morning, so no one was awake. Tom, as quietly as he could, walked down the hallway. _Tom, _he heard again and turned to the right, following the voice to the elevators. He took it down and when the doors opened, he was faced with the eerily silent white walls and fluorescent lights.

_TOM! _The voice yelled in his head, making Tom clutch the side of his head in pain. It was definitely coming from this floor. He walked down the hallway and stopped at one of the doors. _There was something different about this one_, he thought to himself, hearing the voice again, softer, almost a whisper. Just before he could put his hand on the panel to open it, he felt a hand on his shoulder and gasped, turning around. In front of him stood the huge bulk of Dr. Hank McCoy, physician and brilliant doctor. The doctor shook his head and motioned for Tom to follow him.

"The Professor sent me," he explained as they went into a room beside the one that Tom had tried to go into. Tom hugged himself. "I-I'm sorry, Dr. McCoy, I didn't mean to pry," Tom began, but Hank put up his huge hand to stop Tom. "Don't apologize for being curious, Tom. It's curiosity that has led to some of man's greatest feats," he said, and Tom gave him a small smile. The room they were in was like a viewing room, set up with a panel of computer screens and a seat in front of it. "Apparently, Chris wants you to see why he didn't come back to the dorm last night. And well, who are we to refuse," Hank said and nodded to the screens. "Press the enter button."

Tom's heart raced as he approached the screen. Something in him was screaming to not press the button, but he did anyway and recoiled at what he saw. The screen fizzled to life to show Chris lying on a bed, his limbs strapped down. Tom could see that he was screaming and sweating profusely, his blonde hair wet with perspiration. Chris' hands were clenched into fists so tight that blood dripped from them where his nails had driven themselves into his flesh. Then Tom was shocked to see Jean and the Professor enter the room. Jean put out her hand and began advancing with the Professor towards the bed. When they got there, Tom saw Jean using her powers to hold Chris down while the Professor leaned over Chris and put his hands on either side of Chris' head.

It was then that Tom heard it - the scream that tore through the hallway. He was out of the room in a heartbeat. Hank called out to him just as he got into the next room. Tom slammed the doors open, ripping them off their mounts, but just before he ran in, Hank caught hold of his arms and held him back. "Tom, DON'T!" Hank shouted, baring his fangs, but it was as if Tom didn't hear him. Using his legs, he launched Hank off him and scrambled up to face the two mutants that surrounded Chris.

Jean looked at him, eyes flaring with power, and he was pushed back against the wall, but Tom was so angry at them hurting Chris that he screamed for them to stop. Miraculously, they did. Jean's eyes went wide with surprise as he put down her hands from where he was. The Professor turned to look at Tom, shock etched on his face. Even Chris seemed to calm down a little. "STEP. AWAY. FROM. HIM." Tom demanded, now in full command of his body again and they backed up against the wall. He went over to Chris and very gently touched Chris' forehead that was drenched in cold sweat. "Chris," he whispered and Tom saw movement from behind Chris' eyelids. "Chris, come back to me," Tom said slowly, hoping to God that Chris could hear him.

Slowly, Chris opened his eyes and Tom saw that his irises were white, snow white. Chris looked at Tom and blinked once. "T-Tom?" he said slowly and Tom smiled at him. "Hi." A smile slowly crept up to Chris' face. The ice blue color slowly seeped back into Chris' eyes. "That's some power you've got, Tommy," Chris said and Tom smiled. "I never knew I had it in me." Just then the Professor stepped into view. "Tom…" the Professor began with caution, but Tom leaned over Chris' body protectively, trying in vain to shield Chris' huge frame with his own lanky one.

"Back away, please," Tom said and the Professor did but kept his eyes on Tom. "How did you do that?" he asked. Tom's brows furrowed in annoyance. "Professor, I don't mean to sound like an insufferable teenager, but would you mind telling me what the hell were you doing to him?" Tom asked, but Chris was the one who answered. "Tom, please," Chris said. "Get me out of these cuffs and we'll go upstairs, have a cup of hot chocolate, and I'll explain everything." Tom looked down at Chris for a moment and relented. He struggled a bit with the cuffs and Jean, upon seeing that, stepped forward. "Let me help you." Tom shouted. "NO!" But then he softened his tone. "Please, just stay back, Ms. Grey."

He finally got Chris out of the cuffs, but upon seeing Chris struggle as he got up from the bed, Tom gave him his shoulder to lean on, and together they walked out of the room. On the way out, Tom stopped to see if Hank was okay. "I'm sorry I threw you, Dr. McCoy," Tom apologized, but Hank just gave him a toothy smile. "Don't worry about it," he said gruffly. "It'll take more than that to hurt me."

When they got to the kitchen, Tom sat Chris down on one of the chairs and got him a blanket to keep warm. Chris thanked him and snuggled into it as he watched Tom prepare two hot cups of chocolate. Tom even tossed in a few marshmallows that he found. When he served Chris, Chris looked at them, smiled, then took a sip.

Tom followed his lead, but not before blowing the top of the drink gently. Chris put down the mug and smacked his lips happily, some of his strength returning. He looked at Tom with a growing smile, but it turned into a grimace of pain.

"Chris?" Tom said, reaching out to the other man, but when Chris opened his eyes, Tom shrunk back. Chris' eyes were white again, but this time, a dark anger was etched on his face.

That was the last thing Tom remembered before he was consumed by darkness.


End file.
